Boredom Therapy
by Juliet Knighly
Summary: Getting bored on The Bus CAN NOT end well... Especially when there's a fridge full of leftovers and an entire freaking cabinet of whipped cream! Seriously, who hoards whipped cream like that? Takes place during season 1. Very mild SkyeWard hints at the end.


**STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY**

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Skye opened the refrigerator, scanning the shelves and taking out the mayonnaise, ham, a tomato, and some lettuce. Next she began looking for the bread.

She opened the bread drawer, scowling when she saw it was empty. Thinking that perhaps someone had just misplaced it, she went through the rest of the cabinets, her frustration growing when the staple was nowhere to be found. Suddenly a voice spoke behind her.

"The bread was eaten up yesterday, if that's what you're looking for," Ward stated, sitting on a bar stool and folding his hands in front of him. Skye glared at him.

"Let me guess, your infamous triple-layer BLT with eggs and cheese?"

"Two of them, actually."

Rolling her eyes, the girl turned back to fridge, not expecting to be hit with a glob of mayo. That is, however, precisely what happened.

Skye inhaled deeply and counted to eight, attempting to stay calm. It wasn't working.

"Ward, I'm going to turn around in ten seconds, and when I do, you'd better be nowhere in my vision."

When she turned, the specialist was gone, so she gave a small grin of contentment.

Until she was pelted with a tomato.

Judging from where she was hit, she figured that Grant was behind the bar. Skye narrowed her eyes.

"Alright, if that's how you wanna play..." She mumbled, reaching into the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of ketchup. She crept silently up to the bar and readied herself.

When Ward stood to fire again, she emptied the condiment bottle, covering him from head to toe in red sauce. In his surprise, he dropped the ball of ham he'd been planning to throw. Skye picked it up and smacked it in his face.

Satisfied that they were even, the girl made to go clean the mayonnaise and tomato juice from her hair. But there was no going back now.

It was war.

Grant took the jar of mayo and unscrewed the lid. Before Skye could leave the kitchen, he dumped the rest of its contents onto her head, smirking at her livid expression.

She rushed towards the fridge and retrieved a container of pickles, hurling the slices at him with uninhibited fury.

Now weaponless, Ward fought past the barrage of dill and opened a cupboard, claiming a box of macaroni and using the uncooked noodles as ammo.

The kitchen was fast becoming a minefield.

Skye ran out of pickles, so she grabbed the first thing her fingers touched: a bottle of Sri Racha.

Grant's eyes widened. "Skye, no, you can't."

An evil grin spread on the girls face. "Oh yes I can."

She began to fire, so Ward started running. There was no way he was going to be a sitting target. He could only imagine the hell it would be to get some of that sauce in his eyes.

Shielding himself with the refrigerator door, he armed himself with a container of leftover lasagna, trying to avoid the steady stream of spicy liquid while also throwing handfuls of pasta.

Skye shrieked, a glob of lasagna hitting her in the face just as a stray drop of Sri Racha found Grant's left eye. Both combatants dropped their weapons in favor of trying to clear their vision.

After a couple minutes of moaning and eye-rubbing, the two continued their battle with renewed passion. They looked to _the_ cabinet, back at each other, then ran.

Flinging open the cupboard revealed can after can of whipped cream, FitzSimmons' personal stock. Grabbing two cylinders each, they flicked the caps off, and it began.

The cream flew everywhere, as the (supposed) agents attempted to coat each other in the dessert topping. And since they'd invaded the forbidden cabinet, _everything_ was fair weaponry, from Coulson's peanuts to May's Chia seeds.

Though it only felt like minutes to the two of them, it was an hour before Phil got the hankering for a snack and opened the door to the kitchen.

The S.H.I.E.L.D Director stepped through the entryway, only to be assaulted with a glob of cheesy potatoes from one side and taco meat from the other.

Skye and Ward froze. Setting down the food in their hands, they stood in front of Coulson, their expressions a mixture of terror and embarrassment. Neither of them had an inch of clean space on their bodies.

Phil wiped the meat and cheese from his face, keeping his breathing slow and his muscles loose. Nevertheless, when he saw the full extent of damage done to the kitchen, his reaction was not what one could describe as "calm."

"What. The. HELL?! What have you done to this place?! It looks like a hurricane tore through here!"

Both agents were silent.

"Answer me! How the hell did you manage to coat every centimeter of the kitchen in some sort of food?!"

Ward sheepishly itched his neck. "Well... I threw some Mayo at Skye, so uh, she retaliated. And it was all downhill from there."

Coulson looked as though he didn't believe what he was hearing.

"You mean you're telling me that two grown adults had _a food fight_ because they could find nothing else to occupy their time with?"

"I was actually just trying to make a sandwich..." Skye stated.

The director was at a loss for words as he stared incredulously at the agents in front of him. From the looks of it, they would definitely need to land soon to restock their food supplies, which was a stop that he had no time for. Phil glared at the two.

"I don't care how long it takes, you guys are gonna take care of this ridiculous mess. And you owe FitzSimmons an apology for annihilating their store of whipped cream. Now both of you hit the showers and get cleaned up, you've got a lot of work ahead of you."

With that, he stormed away, mumbling something about five year olds and the fate of the world.

When Coulson was gone, Ward turned to Skye, looking her up and down. Mayonnaise lingered in her hair, she had pasta sauce on her face and blouse, and there was whipped cream _everywhere_. He smiled.

"You have to admit, it was kinda fun," he stated, smearing some chocolate sauce off her face.

"I never said it wasn't," she replied, grinning as he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"But seriously, I'm getting really sticky, we need to go wash this crap off."

Chuckling, he released her, Skye scooping some cream from his hair and licking it. She then turned and headed towards the door, looking back at him and raising her eyebrows.

"It's _your_ fault I'm a mess, so don't think you're just cleaning the kitchen."

Ward smirked and followed her to the showers, locking the door behind them while Skye turned on the water.

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 **Tee-hee. I love hinting, because I can't do actual smut. What did you guys think? If you liked it, drop me a review! I love them! And if you're a psycho like me and still ship SkyeWard, you should check out some of my other stories, maybe follow. I've got some beautiful ideas brewing in my crazy brain that I can't wait to get down. Hope you enjoyed!**


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